


Are We All Lost Stars

by red_b_rackham



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Action, Alternate Universe, Angst, Family, Fandom Typical Violence, Feels, Gen, Moderate Language and Violence, Secret Santa Fic, Whump, demon hunting, let's pretend this wasn't smashed out in too few hours, probable blatant misuse of canon's ever-changing rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_b_rackham/pseuds/red_b_rackham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over twenty years ago, a demon possessed Anakin, and killed Padme. Twins Leia and Luke have been hunters ever since, and they're determined to bring down the demon who stole their parents from them. (Star Wars/Supernatural AU) Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are We All Lost Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meskeet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meskeet/gifts).



> A/n: I’ve never actually written Leia or Luke or old SW before and did not realize that until I started this and was like _wow I have no idea what I’m doing_ and _what the frik frak were you thinking picking something you don't know how to do when you only have two days left to do it AND AN AU you idiot you_. Hopefully it is not too horrible (but I am pretty sure this is a train wreck and I am so sorry. I WILL DO BETTER NEXT TIME.) 
> 
> (Now excuse me while I snicker for years over the fact that I’m now doing a SW SPN AU, after I did a SPN SW AU - which snowballed into a 100k+ epic. Thankfully this did not snowball.)
> 
> _Prompt: Star Wars/Supernatural AU (maybe Luke and Leia are on a quest to save their father, possessed by a demon.)_

The demon spat blood at her feet. “I’m never giving you a _thing_ , you Skywalker bitch.”

Really, he was just giving Leia more fuel for her fire. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this later.

She splashed holy water in the demon’s face a couple times and didn’t flinch when he screamed bloody murder. Next, she made a shallow cut on the pale thing’s arm with the demon knife, and the creature howled and wailed in agony.

Leia stepped back, waiting for the noise to subside. “Are you ready to tell me where my father is?” she asked coldly.

The creature wearing a man's face snarled and spat fiercely in Leia’s direction. “You think after twenty-something years of using your dad’s meat suit that Vader’s just gonna give it up? You’re more deluded than I thought. And they say you Skywalkers are _smart._ ”

A small smile played at the corner of Leia’s lips. “I think you have no idea what the hell I’m willing to do to get my father back, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

“You can’t just Latin him out – he’s a _Greater Demon_ ,” the man grinned with bloody teeth, like this piece of information was supposed to scare the hunter before him.

It might’ve, had she not already been well aware of just who Vader was.

“Where is he?” she asked calmly.

The demon growled. He struggled fruitlessly against the bonds holding him to the chair within the devil’s trap painted on the floor. After another angry growl, he spat blood in her direction – about the only threatening thing he could manage in his current broken, bound state.

Leia waited a beat before tossing another splash of holy water onto the demon’s bare skin.

The possessed man bellowed and hissed. He used a variety of very colorful and unpleasant adjectives to describe Leia before petering out to a furious, unsteady pant.

“Look, I can do this all day,” said Leia. She leveled her most dangerous gaze at the demon and leaned forward just a little. “I’ve tracked down and killed dozens of your kind, and I _know_ you know where my father is. You can get sent back to Hell or you can cease to exist. Tell me what I need to know – I’m running out of time and patience.”

The thing momentarily seemed to contemplate her words before his lips thinned to a flat line. “Why don’t _you_ go to Hell, you fu-”

The rest of his sentence was garbled in a scream as Leia filled his mouth with holy water.

 

~

 

Luke set down his pencil and gave his burning eyes a rub. He’d been staring at these engineering schematics for too many hours in a row now, and it was really starting to take a toll on him. He got up from his chair to stretch and walk around the room a bit.

The cabin smelled like pine trees and smoke, and it was nice enough – certainly quiet enough – but he kind of wished he were back in his dorm instead. It was easier to study for his exams when he wasn’t worrying about what Leia was doing somewhere out there. She’d called him two days ago; she’d finally found a real lead in the case to find their father.

Luke had argued with her, saying this wasn’t the first time they’d had a “real lead” that hadn’t panned out, but she’d convinced him to come up to Obi-Wan’s cabin anyways. Luke rubbed his neck, wishing their surrogate father was around to keep him company, but last Luke heard, Obi-Wan was in Iowa hunting a pack of vamps.

Almost of their own accord, or perhaps out of habit, Luke found his feet crossing the main room to the fireplace where Obi-Wan kept a handful of pictures lined up on the mantle. Luke’s eyes sought the picture of his and Leia’s parents in its plain wooden frame, and as usual, he felt a pang of sadness and longing hit him in the chest.

Their father, Anakin, had been handsome, with bright eyes and sandy colored hair. Their mother, Padme, had a tumble of dark curls and a wide, beautiful smile. The picture depicted them looking happy and carefree. The old white house with the broken shutters that Luke and Leia had spent much of their early childhood in was in the background.

Luke remembered the night their parents died vividly. Padme had been cooking in the kitchen, Anakin out for the night. Luke and Leia had learned in later years that their father had been on a hunt, but at the time, they’d been too young to properly know the details of their father’s unorthodox occupation. He’d stormed into the house, crashing around, and Luke and Leia had come running when Padme started screaming.

Luke closed his eyes but the image of Padme on the ceiling, helpless and burning alive, had never left him. He still could see his father with black eyes advancing on his twin children, could picture Obi-Wan tearing into the house and blasting Anakin full of salted shells. He could still remember the conversation with Obi-Wan a few hours later where he had to explain that demons, ghosts, and every nasty monster you could imagine not only existed, but that one of them had taken their father and killed their mother.

Luke and Leia had been hunting ever since.

Luke nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a sharp, loud knock at the door. He hurried across the room and unlatched the door. On the other side stood Leia, spattered from her dark-haired head to boot-clad toe in drying blood.

“Luke,” she panted. “I found him.”

 

~

 

Leia grit her teeth as she approached the seedy bar. It wasn’t the pair of hefty, muscled man lounging by the door and openly leering at her that had her already irritated and edgy. Neither was it the thick smell of sweat, beer, and tobacco smoke that wafted out the door before she stepped foot over the threshold that made her stomach flip uneasily. She’d been to the Mos Eisley before – this was nothing new.

No, her unease was because of who she had to meet here and why.

She elbowed her way through the crowded bar, heading towards the back where she knew he’d be. Sure enough, when she reached the circular booth in the corner that was partially in shadow in the dimly lit venue, there he was, arrogant grin appearing on his handsome features immediately.

“Well, hey, princess,” Han Solo practically cooed, leaning back and stretching his arms atop the booth’s brown fabric cushions. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me eventually.” He looked her up and down openly, admiring the cut of her dark pants and waist-hugging shirt.

Leia fought not to roll her eyes and instead settled for a small _don’t start with me_ jut of her chin. “You got my message, clearly?”

He tilted his head down slightly. “Oh come on, you’re not even going to _try_ to exchange some pleasantries? Come on, we go way back.”

Leia bit the inside of her cheek. Han was a merc and a thief, and a damn good one. She’d solicited his services in the past, and maybe there’d even been a make-out session or three, but last time they’d tried to run a job together, he’d royally screwed her. He’d managed to trap her into getting arrested while he made off with the spell book she needed to finish the job she’d been working with him and Luke. It’d been awfully hard to explain to the cops why she’d been in possession of three machetes, a bag of occult objects, and a bucket of lamb’s blood. To this day she had no idea what Obi-Wan had said to get her out of _that_ one.

She’d sworn to Luke she’d never work with Han again, but damn if she didn’t need his particular skills once more for this. If it hadn’t been so important, she would have found _any_ other way.

Thankfully, Han seemed to sense that he couldn’t screw with Leia this time after what he’d done to her in the past, so he eased up a little.

“Yeah, I got your message,” he said, sitting back in the booth, and gesturing to Leia to have a seat as well.

The last thing she wanted to do was get close to him – the part she’d never admitted to Luke, but suspected he already knew, was that even though she pretty much hated Han, she was rather attracted to him. And his sexy grin and fast fingers and –

Leia cleared her throat and plopped down in the circular booth, shimmying a little closer, but leaving a very pointed space between them. Han fought off a grin like he knew exactly why she was sitting so far away.

“Did you get it?” Leia demanded curtly before he could let loose the usual flirty comments he was probably brimming with.

“Sweetheart, d’you think I would’ve come if I hadn’t?” Han replied, smoothing his hand over his short brown hair.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Leia remarked sharply.

Okay, so maybe she was still stinging from their last meeting, despite what she’d told herself on the drive over here. She was too close to saving her father – after so long, so many false starts and dead trails and mistakes and close calls, she simply didn’t have it in her to play nice with Han today.

Han put on that knock-your-socks-off grin again and Leia felt her body betray her as her pulse raced. She kept her features closed off and cool as best she could, and watched with rising excitement as Han reached for his large canvas “loot” bag. He began digging through it, and a moment later he pulled out an oblong box and set it on the table before him.

“You have my money?” he inquired, keeping one hand on the box.

Leia reached into her pockets and pulled out a thick envelope. This had practically cleaned her and Luke out of years of savings, but if this worked, it would be more than worth it. Money meant nothing if it led to saving their father once and for all.

She flashed Han the contents of the envelope and then slid it along the booth’s seat cushions as he moved the box across the table towards her. The advantage of the Mos Eisley was that no one blinked twice at suspicious hand-offs in dark corners.

The pair of them snatched at their respective prizes with ample amounts of doubt and mistrust, then hastily ensured that they’d received what had been agreed upon. Leia popped off the box’s top and pushed away several layers of soft cloth to reveal a battered, blackened old gun beneath. She slid her fingers deftly up the long skinny barrel to the worn trigger, letting out a deep shuddering breath.

“Is this really it?” she asked, turning hope-filled eyes to the merc who was thumbing through his money greedily.

“Sure is, princess,” he said flippantly. He met her gaze then and added, “I swear, I checked it out every way I could. There was a bunch of fakes running around, but this is the real deal. I wouldn’t lift anything else, cupcake, you know that.” He flashed her a cocky smile.

Leia closed the box and hugged it close to her chest. She was already wiggling out of the booth with a hurried, mumbled thank you when Han snapped his finger at her.

“Hey, wait!”

She was ready to bite his head off – she’d given his damn money, what the hell did he want _now_ – when he fixed her with an uncharacteristically serious look.

“Leia,” he said, using her name for once.

Her stomach fluttered against her will and she hoped the dimness of the room hid the way a blush had crept onto her features. She remembered long kisses in alcoves and exploring hands and –

“What?” she prompted, working to seem impatient rather than flustered.

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Good luck.”

 

~

 

Luke gunned the accelerator on the old Falcon, hoping the old thing wouldn’t break on them now.

The thing was a ’63, and a damn ugly car in Leia’s opinion, but it belonged to Anakin and they worked hard to keep it in decent shape, even if it was perpetually breaking down on them. It was a good thing Luke was good with mechanics and fixing things – a trait he’d inherited from Anakin – because his expertise was needed more often than not. Obi-Wan kept telling them to get rid of the troubled machine, but neither Luke nor Leia could bring themselves to part with it.

“It’s really the Saber?” asked Luke, glancing at his sister in the passenger’s seat clutching an ancient-looking gun. “Han didn’t screw you again?” He hastily added, “Figuratively.”

Leia shot him a fierce glare before returning to inspecting the gun. “He promised it was.”

“Well, that’s great!” Luke grinned – finally, dear God, _finally_ something was going their way. Except his twin didn’t seem to share the sudden feeling of hope that Luke had, as her expression was conflicted and stormy when he glanced her way again.

“What?” he asked.

“It feels like we’re banking our father’s soul getting released from a demon on _Han’s_ promises.” Leia shifted uncomfortably. “And a mythical gun that may or may not kill our father _along with_ Vader. It sounds reckless and idiotic.”

Luke gripped the steering wheel, his stomach twisting. They were so close now – she was right, it seemed catastrophically wrong to put so much faith in an unknown weapon and a _known_ liar.

“It’ll work,” he piped up optimistically after too long of a silence. “It has to.” He nodded, as if doing so would convince him as much as he was trying to convince Leia. “We’re out of options, so our new course is to believe that this is it, and that Han is telling the truth, that the Saber is real, and it will work just like we read it would.”

Leia sighed. “Luke, just shut up and drive.” She clutched the gun with trembling hands and stared out the window. Her fingers worried absently at the gun’s intricately carved handle.

He knew she didn’t like the situation any more than he did, despite his positive comments, so he did just that. He was already edging over the speed limit, but he poured on a little more gas and hoped there were no cops for the next bunch of miles. Just a couple more hours and they’d reach the place where Vader was currently hiding.

Luke just prayed he’d still be there when they got there.

 

~

 

Luke parked at the end of the road, well out of earshot of the barn where Vader was hiding out, according to their intel. The Skywalker twins exited the Falcon and circled around to retrieve a few extra weapons from their loaded down trunk. Leia tucked the Saber carefully into her belt, and concealed it with her jacket.

“You ready?” Luke asked.

Leia shot him a wry sort of smile. “No.”

Together they headed down the moonlit gravel road. Though turning into the bushes and walking a wide perimeter around the barn before approaching felt like a waste of time, Luke knew it was simply vigilance. Was Vader really alone in the barn as they’d been told? Was he truly hiding and recovering from a recent massive fight with a Knight of Hell? Or was this all a trap, and there were dozens of demons hiding nearby and ready to ambush the famous Skywalker twins? They had to be sure.

Once Luke and Leia determined there were no minions hanging about, they trekked back out onto the road and headed towards the barn. It was an old, wooden barn that had certainly seen better years. It looked like one good wind might blow it clean over.

As Luke and Leia walked closer, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I’ve got a bad feelings about this,” he mumbled.

Whether it was the moonlight washing her out, her own misgivings or both, Leia looked extremely pale as she nodded in uneasy agreement.

Luke’s every muscle was tense, and he gripped his double barrel shotgun, ready to fire at the first sign of movement. There were no sounds except the wind rustling through the nearby pine trees.

They could see orange firelight flickering beyond the cracks in the barn’s old doors, and Luke could feel sweat beading on his forehead. Any second now, and he was going to be face to face with the demon that had murdered his mother and stolen his father. The demon that he and Leia and Obi-Wan had spent the better part of twenty years hunting.

Leia reached the rickety old doors first, and she gestured for Luke to come closer. He nodded and hurried to join her. With a quick look and wave of her hand, she indicated that she’d yank open the door and hang back so Luke could go in first.

Luke took a steadying breath and agreed. Leia counted down silently, then hauled open the barn doors.

He saw Vader immediately: a dark figure hunched before a large fire burning in a barrel; a figure that seemed worn and defeated before anything had even happened. The silhouette raised its head and turned towards Luke.

Boiling anger, the depth of which Luke had never previously felt, erupted inside him. There was a roaring in his ears and he advanced, pulling the trigger and pumping the shotgun as fast as he could. He wasn’t going to let Vader get a single word in, wasn’t going to give him a chance to raise his hand, use his powers, _nothing_. He’d pump Vader full of salt and then watch Leia blow him away with a silver bullet from the Saber and he was going to fucking relish it.

Except the shells exploded against of Vader’s chest, the empty shells clattered uselessly to the ground, and the demon merely hissed as though he’d been stung instead of terribly hurt. Luke stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The anger coiled around his ribs went up in smoke as it was overtaken by shock and terror. _What the hell!?_

The man came closer.

Far above, a jagged hole in the old ceiling allowed a brilliant shaft of moonlight to pour down between Luke and the figure. Vader stepped into that light and Luke fought not to scream.

The man before him was an aged version of their father Anakin, but ragged and scarred. His black clothes hung off of his thin frame, his hair was streaked gray, and his eyes were pitch black, sunken in deep hollows. He was like a walking version of a corpse, and it was the most horrible thing Luke had ever laid his eyes on.

“Hello my son,” the demon said. His voice was deep and rumbling, and not at all like Luke remembered Anakin’s voice. He nodded towards Leia, who’d remained concealed in the shadows when Luke had initially attacked. “Daughter.”

Leia came out of hiding reluctantly and came to stand beside Luke, her shoulders tight with pent up anger and adrenaline.

“Is our father still alive in there?” Leia asked, though it rather sounded like she was having trouble getting any words out. Luke’s mouth was hanging open uselessly and he snapped it shut.

Vader/Anakin’s features twisted into a semblance of a grin. “You could say that,” he said, his voice rolling darkly over them and sending shivers down Luke’s spine.

Leia went for the Saber at her belt and Vader lashed his arm out, blindingly quick. Before Luke had an instant to react, he felt something akin to a massive invisible log come flying out of nowhere to crash into his chest, expelling the air from his lungs, and sending his body slamming into the nearest pillar. His gun clattered to the ground. The barn creaked and shuddered, and through the stars in his eyes, Luke could see Leia pinned against another pillar struggling to get her breath back.

“I may not be feeling one hundred percent,” Vader drawled. “But that doesn’t mean I am entirely without strength.” He gave his wrist a flick and Leia’s head snapped to the side like she’d been punched in the jaw.

“Leave… her…” Luke gasped out, still trying to breathe.

Vader completely ignored him. “Now, who must I kill for leading you two to me after all this time?” he questioned. “I knew I should not have shown weakness. Disappearing altogether until I was healed would have been wiser...”

Leia had managed to recover, and she shouted, “What did you do to our father?”

Vader walked and forth before them with languid steps. “I suppose after twenty years, I’ve finally worn it out.” He poked at a wide, uneven scar along his hairline. “Then again, I have not exactly taken the best care of this thing, either.”

A spike of white hot anger flashed in Luke’s chest. “ _Thing_? That’s our _father’s body!_ ”

Vader turned a malicious grin on Luke. “Oh, I am well aware, young one. It allowed me to destroy a number of hunters easily in those first few weeks – before they received word that I had taken Anakin, they believed I _was_ him.”

Luke flinched. Obi-Wan had never told them that.

“I did attempt to wear other… what do they say? ‘Meat suits’,” Vader continued, as casual as if this were an everyday conversation over tea and cookies. “But I always came back to this one before Anakin recovered enough to escape. This one just fits… so… _nice_.”

He looked up thoughtfully at the Skywalker twins, still pinned to their respective pillars, fighting to breathe properly.

“I suppose I could just kill you outright,” Vader raised his hands. “But where would be the fun in that?” He jerked his hands back like he was pulling on the reins of a horse.

Abruptly the pressure holding Luke to the pillar disappeared, and he fell painfully to the dirt, his arm tangled beneath him. Luke could see his shotgun on the ground behind Vader, and to his far left, Leia getting to her feet. Luke jumped up as Vader strode towards him with confident, arrogant steps.

Luke snatched up a pair of knives from the back of his belt and flung them at Vader. The demon waved his hand and tossed the flying metal aside as easily as swatting a fly, but it gave Luke the second he needed to roll forward past the oncoming demon, towards the discarded gun. He dove for it, only to find himself getting yanked back, his skin scraping over rocks and his mouth and eyes filling with dirt. Vader tossed him like a rag doll.

Leia had the Saber out and was taking aim, but Vader caught sight of her too. Still holding his arm out towards Luke, pressing him to the ground with an invisible force, he slashed out his right hand, and Leia collapsed.

“No!” Luke cried out.

Leia struggled to her knees, with blood sliding down her cheeks from a fresh gash above her eye. Vader chuckled.

“You two are supposed to be such famous, _great_ , skilled hunters,” he sneered, looking between the two fallen hunters. “You are weak, and sad. And I’m not even at full strength.”

 _Not even at full strength_. Luke’s eyes widened. A Greater Demon couldn’t be stopped by traditional demon-expelling means, but a wounded, nearly-beaten Greater Demon? It wouldn’t defeat him, but surely it’d _hurt_.

Luke hastily began reciting the proper passages for a traditional demon exorcism under his breath. Vader laughed the moment her realized what the boy was doing, but before he began to make any snide remarks, he clapped his hands over his mouth and seemed to be having a fight against his own body.

Leia was on her feet, swaying and bleeding, fishing for her flask of holy water.

Encouraged, and without the invisible pressure Vader had been pushing onto him, Luke sat up and began reciting faster. Vader’s black eyes were burning with hatred and fury as he staggered back and forth, shuddering and convulsing and moaning into his hands.

Leia lunged, and splashed the contents of her flask at Vader, who screeched and spun, knocking Leia aside. He lashed out blindly, his unseen battering ram of power striking Luke full in the face. He dropped like a rock, his vision blacking out.

 

~

 

Leia called out when Luke fell, but her brother stirred almost immediately – he was alright. But the blow had cut off his recitations, and Vader whirled on her, no longer battling forced expulsion from his vessel.

“I’ve had quite enough of play time, now, children,” he growled.

Leia brandished her demon knife and her nearly empty flask of holy water. “Give us our father back.”

Vader merely grinned and then clapped his hands together; the sound was unnatural and thunderous.

Leia crashed to her knees, clawing at her throat. Black liquid splattered out of her mouth as she coughed and choked. It poured down her front – _what had he done_ – it wouldn’t stop coming – sticky and clogging –

“You have come so far,” said Vader mockingly. “It must be very hard indeed to realize you have failed.” He came close and hovered over her. He added in a slicing whisper, “You will _never_ get him back, little princess.”

Leia tried to gasp around the muck filling up her mouth and throat, and simply swallowed more of it. It was oily and tar-like, tasting bitter and full of death.

“Time to follow your mother to whatever Hell she went to…”

His breath was hot on her neck for just a second before he stepped away to taunt Luke.

 

~

 

Luke was on his elbows, panicking at the sight of Leia coughing up black gunk, and then Vader was blocking her from view.

“Your turn,” the demon rumbled.

Past Vader’s legs, Luke could see his sister’s arm reach out, scrambling for the dropped Saber. Luke just needed to give her the second she needed to grab it.

Luke rolled to the side and swiped up a handful of dirt, throwing it up at Vader. The demon dodged, almost amused by the little trick. Luke had his hands on his shotgun and by the time Vader had shaken his eyes clear and spun around, he took Luke’s shotgun in the side of his knee. Vader yelped in pain and swung his arm out, ripping the shotgun from Luke’s grasp and sending it flying across the barn. He closed his hand into a fist and Luke felt his windpipe constrict to nothing.

 

~

 

Black spots were dancing in Leia’s vision as her hand scrabbled in the dirt for the discarded Saber. The world was tilting as her fingers closed around the handle. She brought the gun and aimed at the shrinking black blob.

Vader reared and screamed when the bullet connected, and feeling a sudden rush of oxygen instead of thick liquid, Leia shot again, and a third time, and a fourth. Vader wailed, a hideous, unearthly sound that had Leia clapping her hands over her ears. Vader turned his face skyward.

A column of black smoke tore from Anakin’s mouth and exploded in the air, twisting and dissipating in seconds. Anakin’s eyes and the place where the bullets had struck him flickered with brilliant orange light. A piercing, human-sounding scream with ragged edges full of pain and suffering followed the smoke. Then Anakin swayed on the spot, empty and spent…

But suddenly with _life_ in his natural blue eyes.

“Luke?” he rasped, and may have said her name too when he tumbled to the ground, but she was pounding forward and couldn’t hear him if he did.

“Dad,” she breathed, heart shuddering unevenly in her chest. They'd done it, they’d expelled Vader, and Anakin’s soul remained, he was alive, _he was alive!_

Luke was right with her, and he knelt down first. It was clear in that instant as Leia looked down at Anakin, that “alive” was far too strong a word. She felt her breath catch in her throat. The demon had been keeping their father standing, and using its own life force to mask most of Anakin’s injuries, new and old – all of his limbs were even more bruised, battered, and scarred than he’d previously appeared. “Living corpse” had apparently been a generous description as well. Her eyes burned hot with tears.

Clearly, Vader had been keeping him just barely alive for the entire time he had possessed Anakin. Without that demonic force inside his body, Anakin was left laying on the ground in a crumpled, used, destroyed heap. There was simply nothing left for him to hold on to or fight with. It was over.

Luke wanted to get him to the Falcon, get him to a hospital and get him help. Leia stood there with shaking hands and she worked to reconcile what Luke was fiercely trying to ignore: that this was it. They’d searched for him and fought for him only to have him die at their feet seconds later. That there was nothing they could do, but merely be here.

Leia slid to her knees beside her father’s broken body, hardly able to believe this was really happening. _How could this be happening?_

Luke tucked his arm under Anakin’s shoulders and gingerly raised his father’s head up off the ground a few inches. Tears rolled down his cheeks in steady streams.

“This can’t be it,” he said, his voice thick and wobbling. “You just have to hold on, okay, dad? We’ll get Obi-Wan, and he can help, he always helps… just hold on…”

Leia reached out and grasped Anakin’s pale, bruised hand, her throat too clogged with emotion to get any words out, try as she might. His fingers curled weakly around her own, and she didn’t bother fighting her own tears then; they blurred her vision and spilled out.

“You did it,” Anakin rasped, and it was obvious it took far too much effort to form simple words.

“We didn’t,” Luke sniffed. “We couldn’t – we… we’re too late, dad, I’m _so_ sorry, we… we couldn’t save you… we never gave up but we were too late…”

Anakin gave a slight shake of his head and Luke’s emotional rambling trailed off in a shuddering breath.

“But… you _did_ save me,” said Anakin, his voice straining, barely a whisper. “My children… you _did_ save me.”

Leia felt his hand tighten briefly on hers. He turned his eyes to look at her one last time, and then his hand went slack. He exhaled and lay still.

Luke pulled Anakin’s body close, and his cries were muffled by Anakin’s chest. Leia stayed beside him, held onto her father’s unmoving hand, and slid her free arm across Luke’s jolting shoulders.

It didn’t seem fair – to come _so far_ and _so close_ , only to lose Anakin in the end. And yet, somehow, she could feel an absurd sense of relief and _release_ stealing over her. Maybe they hadn’t rescued him in the way they wanted – they couldn’t get him back as their father, or make up for lost time – but they _had_ saved him. They’d rid him of the demon that had been controlling his body for more than twenty years, and he was able to be at peace.

Sometime later, Luke and Leia had a small, private hunter’s funeral for their father’s body. They built a pyre in silence, each wrapped in grief. They lifted their father’s empty shell onto it when it was finished, and Leia spread salt across his marred skin while Luke got out the matches. They lit the pyre and stood back to watch it burn. Leia grasped Luke’s hand and he held on tight.

As Leia watched the flames consume Anakin’s body, she felt her body relax. Even in her grief, for the first time since she was a small child, Leia did not feel like the entire world was resting on her and Luke’s shoulders.

She looked up to the stars dotting the night sky.

**-end-**


End file.
